| | Than hadde voys or ony that can syng | |
| 475 | My lord your fadir god his soule blis | |
| | And eke your moder of her gentilnes | |
| | Haue in my hous be ful wel at ese | |
| | And certes sire fayne wolde I you plese | |
| | But for men speke of syngyng I wolde sey | |
| 480 | So moot I browkyn myn yen twey | |
| | Saue you ne herd I neuer man so synge | |
| | As did your fader in the mornynge | |
| | Certis it was of herte al that he song | |
| | And forto make his voys the more strong | |
| 485 | He wolde so peyne hym that with bothe his yen | |
| | He muste wynke so lowde he muste cryen | |
| | And stondyn on his tiptoos therwith all | |
| | And strecche forth his necke long and smal | |
| | And eek he was of suche discrecion | |
| 490 | That ther was noman in no region | |
| | That hym in song or wisdom mighte passe | |
| | I haue wel red dan burnel the asse | |
| | Among his vers ther was a cok | |
| | For a prestis sone yaf hym a knok | |
| 495 | Vp on is leggis while he was yong & nyce | |
| | He made hym forto lese his benefice | |
| | But ther is no comparison | |
| | Betwix the wisdom and discrecion | |
| | Of your fadir and of his subtilyte | |
| 500 | Now syngith sire for saint charite | |
| | Lete se can ye your fadir countirfete | |
| | This chauntecleer his wyngis gan bete | |
